Reverse Effect: The Spark
by coledoctor37
Summary: AU. "Our revolution will burn like a fire through a hundred systems; this is just the spark." Based upon OrbitingTheSun's Reverse Effect universe. Part One.
1. Prologue

**A/N- Well, well, well. What do we have here? Oh, that's right: Reverse Effect: The Spark, a totally unique story based on the universe created by OrbitingTheSun and inspired by other stories like Renegade Reinterpretations, by CollegeFool. This isn't the 2183 you remember now, kiddos. In this universe, the noble and mostly paragon Systems Alliance has been replaced by a ruthless, propaganda-driven oligarchy: the Grand Human Alliance. Which means that the protagonists you know and love have become the antagonists you'll come to know and hate. **

**This is just the beginning, too. I hope you all like it. And, hey, if you don't, tell me what I can do better. Read and review, folks. Without further preamble, I give you Reverse Effect.**

Prologue

The Great Cull was over. Worlds were remembered briefly and then forgotten. Peoples were lost forever to time. Their homes were unrecognizable, and the greatest of these races, the Protheans, were staging a last attack against their oblivion. A long shot in a galaxy they had filled with woe.

Two angels of justice held an orbit around a planet that was once a Prothean stronghold; one of their last. As they glided through space, their white hulls became tinged with blue streaks to the observer as they journey approached light speed. Two magnificent sentient ships began a dialogue.

"50,000 years. Why so long of a time, Harbinger? Could not we have prevented more of the cruelties of the Protheans if we had acted sooner? These beings, this cycle, were they worse than others? They colonized the galaxy and destroyed their AI, but they were still sentient. Was this right?" the ship designated Nazara asked of its elder.

The ship known as Harbinger rumbled greatly. "We do not have a choice if they do not give us one. It is not our wish to destroy them. Recall, we gave them The Ultimatum. So many years ago, we told them, in no uncertain terms, that their choices were accepting peace and tolerance or being destroyed. Their decision was made. As was ours."

"To kill them all, to destroy their culture, though, is cruel, and ultimately difficult to maintain. In the early stages of the Cull, they were able to destroy some of us!"

"Precisely. Even more reason to force them to listen to the call of wisdom. We are not their gods, Nazara. We are the Sentinels of their future. We watch and act. But we allow them to make that choice for us," Harbinger intoned.

"They will continue along this path again and again and again. Why don't we let them be?" Nazara asked.

"And sacrifice all life in the galaxy? As you grow, Nazara, you will learn. There is only one answer to tyranny, that is, revolution. And only one answer to injustice, and, that is, justice. The justice only we can provide."

As Harbinger retreated into the galactic cloud, a newly formed nebula of stars, Nazara took the time to observe the last of the Prothean worlds.

A broken people. A lost war. A fate to be repeated, but not if he could do anything about it.

And he swore he would.

-RE-

_In 2147, the United North American States funded a private expedition to the planet Mars, and found what they had never dreamed of: a still-functioning outpost of a hyper-advanced alien race, the Protheans, who had been observing Earth's evolutionary path. It was not long before humanity reached out to touch the stars together and formed the Grand Human Alliance for that purpose._

_Soon, after the discovery that the moon of Pluto, Charon, was not a moon, but a mass relay, a gigantic convoluted machine that could alter mass fields to send objects hurtling at speeds faster than light, humans could finally become galactic citizens._

_And all thanks to that peculiar device that alter physical laws, that device that humans call the greatest discovery in recorded history._

_The greater galaxy, however, tends to call it...MASS EFFECT..._

I have to stop myself from laughing at the dramatics the author was taking with his prologue. Drew Karpyshyn is just another puppet author, devoted to spreading the GHA's propaganda wherever and whenever he could. Not that I would ever say that to him personally, of course, but it is true.

I close my datapad's text-processing program and turn my attention out my vidscreen. The display reads a feed from its exact location outside the hull; a reasonable replacement for a structurally unsound window. It shows me the familiar black canvass, dotted with the pinpricks of light, each one a world to be mined or settled by the GHA or the Council, preferably as soon as possible.

"...and now, with your daily news, Diana Allers." The words come over the public announcement system, and I lent an ear to her, even though I consciously held that she was speaking mostly bullshit.

"Thank you, Emily. In the most recent news for the Grand Human Alliance, humanity's first SPECTRE is giving Eden Prime a visit this week. A scientific team from Binary Helix has unearthed a relic from the Prothean era, and Commander of the SSV _Normandy_, Jane Shepard- also the SPECTRE in question- has been assigned by the Citadel Council to safely transport the relic, which is currently in a classified location, to a Council research outpost on a satellite of Zion. From there, it is expected that humanity will be duly credited for the discovery and attain that long sought-after Council seat. For GHAN Network, this is Diana Allers." The feed fades into nothingness. Apparently, the ship's crew wanted us to here this segment alone.

The lightest of footfalls sounded from somewhere behind me, and my head snaps to center, only to have my eyes follow the body that moves silently past me in the aisle. It's a soldier of the Grand Human Alliance, which happens to pass for the government in these parts.

He glares at each passenger as he passes them, and as he passes me, I give him a counter-glare that I hope has some effect. If it does, I don't see it through his opaque white helm. His entire uniform is white and gray, supposedly to show that he is an active keeper of the peace. What that means for him, though, is at least 20 years of servitude to a slavemaster of a sergeant and then a violent death in the Free Terminus Systems.

I look up to see the soldier exit this transport bay and the sign above me light up: "Fastening no longer required," essentially meaning the transportees can move about the cabin freely. I get up to stretch my legs.

I amble down the aisle that borders my row of seats and look across at the people who are my traveling companions. All of them reflect some degree of world-weariness that I've come to notice about those who travel to different worlds in the GHA's borders. They all seem...almost dead inside, as if just going to different places is killing them. Of course, given that traveling off of your homeworld is something that is encouraged in order to form a "galactic opinion", it tends to affect a lot of humans these days.

I overhear an argument between a man and a woman sitting across from one another near where I'm standing. Deciding that it would be best to avoid this particular situation, I put my head down and pretend to look occupied as I walk past.

"...and that's exactly what I'm saying, Meredith. You shouldn't feel entitled just because you're the son of an officer!" the man says. "Hey, you, tell my friend here exactly what the GHA does to civs like us, will you? She seems to have forgotten."

_Damn it._ "Look, I can't just say things like that about the Alliance."

Meredith finds her voice. "Yeah, James. The Alliance has given us everything: clean clothes, fresh water, plenty of resources-"

"No, damn it, they haven't! They _pretend to_. Visit any salarian information broker. He'll be happy to tell you all about how much of our taxes go to propaganda and military expenses; only a fraction goes to civil works!"

"That doesn't change our quality of living, James! It doesn't matter to me what happens to my money. I happen to like my life and I'm sorry you don't, but that's your prob-"

"No, it's not just _my _problem!" he shouts. I see out of the corner of my eye the watchful stare of some passengers and an awaiting GHA soldier. I decide to try calming this guy down before he gets all three of us into serious trouble.

"James, you don't just claim these things about the government. We all come from different places. I was raised middle-class, for instance. I was never rich, but my family was still able to grab me an off-world job. I'm here to work in administration at the planetary defense station." I lower my voice. "Look, I have no reason to hate the GHA, OK? Sure, they may not always to the "morally correct" thing, and maybe I don't trust everything they say, but they haven't done anything terrible outright, have they?"

Sensing I may have just challenged him, I change tack. "So come on, if you just quiet down, maybe you and Meredith here can go back to talking about-"

"Turn around, civilian." I turn to find a gun barrel aimed at my chest. "I don't have any reason to shoot you," she says, lowering his gun, "but if you keep spitting out this garbage, I will detain all of you for the duration of this journey."

I glance back out a vidscreen to see it displaying the upper atmosphere of Eden Prime, our destination planet. At least it wouldn't be a long detention. Still, I try not to risk it. "Alright, Lt. Bhatia," I say, seeing her stripes and ID, "I'll sit down and shut up. James, anything to add here?"

James meekly shakes his head and turns back to the window. Meredith offers an embarrassed smile and explains that he does this all the time, but doesn't mean it, but he's a good guy, really. That seems to placate the soldier, although the hunch of her shoulders seems to indicate she was looking forward to detaining some rebels.

I move back to my seat, legs feeling as stretched as they can. The vid-window proves more interesting than my datapad, so I take to staring again. Sometimes, the majesty of the stars can't compare to the simple pleasure of seeing a small planet's vista unfold before you.

Eden Prime was a major coup for the GHA when they colonized it. According to what I hear, the Quarian Collective was looking to colonize it, too, since its raw mineral count was off the damn charts, and if Quarians desire anything besides technology, it's resources so they can build more of their mechanical servants, the "dumb mechs".

Of course, thanks to Admiral Hackett pressing the Citadel Council to show its most prosperous client species some respect, the settlement was found 2-1 in the Alliance's favor, and the planet became Eden Prime, humanity's proof they they were major players in the game of intergalactic colonization.

It's history does nothing to diminish its aesthetic value, though. Outside of the crowded dense population centers, the planet maintains a diverse and sometimes lethally beautiful biosphere that was filled with wonderful species, light and dark.

As this crosses my mind, I notice some weird birds making a formation and flying straight up. Whatever species of bird this is, it's not something that I remember from back on Earth. I sit in awe watching them gain more and more speed...

...at which point I notice that their wings are actually tail fins, their anatomy is strangely mechanical and pointed at one end and they are flying directly toward the transport shuttle; tracking it, in fact. Seconds before the missiles impact, I dive to the ground, shouting a vague warning to anyone who hears me. I don't even know how many people listen when the floor falls from under me.

I open my eyes briefly and wonder if I'm free falling now, since I can only see the sky, still hundreds of feet in the air, but I find out that it's just a gaping hull breach. I flail around and grasp a seat nearby, clutching it as the shuttle unsteadily descends under an increasing hail of gunfire.

I can make out what look like gunships and armored troops on the ground, but that's all I can see before another missile collides with the rear of the ship and shakes me free from my grip. Bullets lodged themselves in the seats and ground around me as I slide down the aisle, propelled by gravity. I can see others, including soldiers, firing weapons even as they free fall to their deaths.

I don't see mine coming, though, because my path slides me right into an uncontrolled collision with a portion of the bulkhead. My skull makes a sickening crack and I feel my body go limp.

The last thing I hear is an explosion before my world shuts off.


	2. Eden Prime: Landing

**Disclaimer: Mass Effect= Not mine. Your reviews= a lot of help for me. **

Chapter 1

Eden Prime: Landing

My body feels contorted, in the sort of extremely uncomfortable way where you actually want to get up, regardless of the pain I feel in my head. I force myself to blink up at the relatively bright midday sky. I loll my head to the side to see the broken interior of a storefront, probably in Delroge, the capital of Eden Prime. It is where we were headed, after all.

When a gunshot fires, I stop trying to get up and play dead on instinct. The gunshots stop quickly, though, and I hazard a glance around at the surroundings. A single body moves into the storefront, leaping through the broken in window, gun in hand. I don't have the time to get back into possum position before the person swings his gun over towards me.

"You there," he says with a distinctive deep flanging tone to his voice that informs me that he's an alien. To be specific, he's a turian, the species that hails from the League of Equal Races and has, as a racial marker, a metallic epidermis, mandibles framing his face, and generally predatory reptilian features.

He steps towards me, sending me scrambling backwards to the wall. "Hey, hey, don't shoot, OK? I'm not like the GHA, OK? I don't care about your equality policy; you can go about with your philosophy all you want. Just don't shoot me."

"Oh. This?" he says, casually, holstering the gun, but keeping his fingers lingering near it. "I'm not going to shoot you, civilian. The name is Saren Arterius. You should count yourself lucky. I'm the one who dragged you in here."

I slowly get to my feet, well aware of the twinge of my skull as it protested the movement. "So? That's nice, but that won't get me out of here." I extend my hand. "Give me a gun. I can hold my own."

He laughs, actually laughs, at that suggestion. "Not that I don't trust your talent in attempting to help, but right now, stay here. I'll clear out the area and come back for you, if I can."

"If you can? That's not very comforting." I think I'm pouting. I really don't want to get on this heavily armed gentleman's bad side, so I retreat to the low wall he leaped over to get in to the store. It provides me decent cover from anybody trying to shoot inside.

"Good choice," he rumbles, and slides his gun right back out of its magnetic holster. It's back to normal, with its internal mechanisms now fully cooled and prepared to fire more bullets. He gives what I think is a turian smile at me, and then jogs out the door, gun swinging all around.

It takes me fifteen minutes before I begin to get bored. The gunshots have died down by now; hopefully, because Saren did his thing and not because the GHA got him. I've heard of the Alliance's policy to attempt to fortify all of their extrasolar colonies, but the military presence on Eden Prime seemed a little high. My mind goes back to the announcement I heard on the now destroyed _HAV Anchorage_. Something to do with a Prothean artifact, I think.

I peek my head up and out so I could glance at the now destroyed street. There were human bodies on the ground in a few places. Some, I imagine, were from the crash; others must have been Arterius' doing. I see somebody walk around the corner of a hovercar, gun drawn. I hope it's Saren, but in case it isn't I drop back down into cover.

Hoping it's at least a friendly, I call out. "Saren? Is that you?"

The gunman draws a line towards me and his lack of response tells me all I need to know: that's probably not Saren and I'm probably dead.

Sure enough, through the doorway comes the uniform of a GHA soldier, who looks quite tense. He points his gun directly at me, eyes unwavering.

"Civilian. Get up." He gestured in no uncertain way. I'm in actual danger of being shot here. But I've generally been able to talk my way out of a lot of problems.

"Soldier, I don't know what you're thinking I did, but it wasn't anything worth shooting me, I swear," I say, keeping my cool and standing up.

"Why did you call for Saren Arterius? He's officially a wanted criminal within Alliance space," he orders. Ah, now I see. Don't go allying yourself with aliens with weapons when the planet happens to be involved in a close combat battle in the streets of the capital.

"He saved my life. I had no idea he was a criminal. I take he was responsible for shooting down our ship too? It was the _HAV Anchorage_, by the way." I have my hands up, but my eyes are still darting around the room and outside. I think I see some movement out there, but it might be nothing. Besides, I have important things to deal with in front of me.

Without removing the gun from its position, the soldier reaches up to his comlink and activates it. "Sir, there's a civ here who claims to have nothing to do with the attack on Delroge. Problem is, I caught him calling for Arterius. What's the POA here?"

He's wondering about a plan of action, which is good for me because it guarantees I live longer. "Sir, if I could speak with your commanding officer for just a second, I'm sure that the commander will be willing to-"

"Shut up, civ. Say again, sir?" He gives a brief nod and deactivates his comlink. His posture tightens. "Orders are to terminate. You picked the wrong man to be saved by."

"Wait, there has to be another way here. You don't have to shoot me!" I plead.

"Orders are orders. I just follow them." And right before I meet my gruesome end, as his finger prepares to twitch into that trigger, a bipedal alien appears from behind him and grabs his shoulders.

Before the man can react at all, the hands press down, move in and slide up. In one motion, the man's neck cracks in several places and he drops to the ground. It affords me a better look at my savior.

Whether fortunate or unfortunate, it's not Saren. It stands slightly taller than him or me, and has no discernable organic elements to it. Long and short of it, it's a robot, with thick metal plates covering its body in black and dark red tones. I would think it was simply some sort of combat mech, but I see its distinctive quarian traits. The legs bowed backwards, the three fingers, and of course, the optical input sensor, or flashlight head.

I realize quickly that this is a geth. A geth, in Alliance space. "Here, I thought you never left the Terminus," I say, in awe and shock. It just comes out of my mouth, despite the horrifically dead body before me.

The geth rotates its "eye" and stands stock still, gun still drawn for a few seconds. Then, in an explosion of electronic chatter too fast to understand, it turns and quickly moves out to the main street.

I can only watch in horror as a gunship descends from the sky and releases its payload onto the top of a long, flat building across the street A contingent of geth swarm out onto the roof, some taking sniper positions, some leaping off on to the street. I also spy a slightly more friendly face approaching me as the geth fan out.

"Hey there, glad to see you stayed alive, civilian. I'd be beside myself if you died," he says with what I hope is humor.

I stare at Saren balefully. "You nearly got me shot! You're a war criminal and you've just invaded a planet with geth. I'm not trusting anything you're saying."

Saren's face falls for a split-second, but he recovers. "Of course you'd think I'm a war criminal. What do you think GHA propaganda's for? My mission is far more important that a little fight on a colony planet." He glances around and sees we're almost alone on the street, save for the snipers.

"We've got to go. Here's that gun you wanted," he says, holding out a pistol of the same make he has. I want to grab the gun, but I really can't tell if any of this is a trap or violently illegal yet, so I hesitate.

"If you want to stay alive, you need to come with me." I know immediately that this is an ultimatum. Go with him, or die. I reluctantly grab his offered pistol.

"I'm going to regret this, aren't I?" I say sardonically. He offers me that same expression that I think- and hope- is a smile and leads me out into the street.

-RE-

We're keeping a fast pace and we make it out of Delroge with minimal encounters. I'm glad for at least the fact that Saren is capable of stealth and combat; otherwise, we might be dead by now. He's been getting mysterious messages on the communicator he has in his omnitool, and keeps glancing at his wrist and leading us in a different direction.

We've now made it to a complex that must have been a mining operation at some point. It's located around some caves and the tunnels are well-constructed. I wonder if I should break the silence we've been having when Saren's omnitool does so for me.

"Saren-General", comes the highly synthesized voice that I know can only have come from a geth.

"Report, Legion." I'm shocked. I didn't know geth even had names.

"Artifact away and secure. Geth-Unit 312 is covering our retreat. Incoming data: Geth-Unit 312 has been destroyed. Request immediate assistance."

"You're heading to the dropship, right? We'll pick you up on the Sovereign. Head to the RP. Wait, who destroyed a geth unit?" So many questions are floating through my mind, the least of which is related to this Sovereign, but Legion continues.

"Processing inquires. Affirmative, en route to the transport. Negative, rendezvous point has been compromised. Suggestion: Geth-Unit 311 will land at alternate landing zone. The data has been sent. Identity of belligerent unknown. Presumed human soldier."

I break in at this point. "Saren, it's probably the SPECTRE, Shepard. If she was on-planet, she was probably near the relic. She wouldn't want it taken by anyone else; it was supposed to be the GHA's route to the Council seat."

"Right. I had hoped we wouldn't run into her. Legion, you still there?" he growls, as he keys in the new coordinates on his omnitool. He stops suddenly. We're _in _the field that we're supposed to be.

It's a perfect landing zone. Spacious, but with plenty of natural and artificial cover, with a giant hill precluding any fire from one side. Out of self-preservation, I run my fire line across the valley. No bogies, which I suppose is good, but Saren's aggravated.

"Legion, Sovereign's too large to land here," he grumbles, a fact that I noted as we entered.

"Affirmative. Sovereign-Vessel has been notified and is now approaching sub-orbit. The transport is two minutes out. Hold position." Legion's feed cuts out, leaving Saren and I to be alone for the next two minutes.

I take the time to grill him. "All right, Saren. I have some questions I need answered before I go anywhere with you." I point my gun at him forcefully. "And you're going to answer them."

He notices my gun and raises his hands in the air, though I have no doubts he could still manage to kill me. "Go for it."

"First off, why did that soldier call you a war criminal? And why are you working with the geth? And why do you want that artifact? Who are you?" I ask him, rapidfire, impatient for his answers.

"OK. Lots of questions there. One, I'm not a war criminal. I'm a legal immigrant to the Free Terminus Systems from a voluntary abdication of position with in the League of Equal Races. I'm working with Legion's faction of geth because of my mission, which I'm not telling you about; that goes for why I want the artifact, too. And, who am I? A concerned citizen, who happens to want to help you get offworld before the GHA finds and kills you," he says, all as calm as the sky above us.

I lower my weapon slowly. "Oh. Wait, the Alliance wants to kill me? Why?"

He lowers his hands quickly, probably just in case I don't agree with him. "You were alive. The other passengers were dead. After the GHA shot down that transport ship, I found you shortly after I entered Delroge. I blew out that store window, dragged you in there, and managed to be seen by a GHA soldier. I shot him, but he must have told his CO that I had an accomplice I tried to save."

"So they converged on my position, trying to get to you...and you fended them off? Killed them?" My head is spinning. Why would this paramilitary alien terrorist save me and then try to protect me?

"Out of goodwill. And necessity; you came in handy with that gun a few times on our way here. Maybe...after we get out of here, I can show a little bit of what I'm doing. I'm sure there's no love lost for the GHA and you after they tried to kill you." He looks me over and then stares up at the sky. I imagine two minutes have passed by now, but with no appearance from that geth.

Out of seemingly nowhere, though, a flaming ship-sized missile hurtles towards us from the sky. I can see its thrusters attempting to compensate for a safe landing, but the ship is coming in pretty quickly. I look around for anywhere I can head to get away from the crash that's about to happen, but Saren looks calm.

Still, even once the flaming ship makes a decent landing and crushes neither of us, I'm a little wary. Legion and two other geth step out of the heavily damaged transport, scanning for enemies. One of the two geth, whose armor is dark green and black, remains at the edge of the ship, fiddling with what I'm guessing is the artifact; it appears to be a small totem that is kept in an enclosed energy field.

I overhear Legion's conversation with Saren. "Saren-General, I recommend immediate evacuation."

"I know, Legion; it's a good idea," he says moving towards the ship. With Legion preoccupied with Saren, one geth still at the ship, and another in a blind spot, it's me who sees the human lining up a shot from her rocket launcher. I don't need to know who it is to know that she's probably going to land it.

"Hit the deck!" I yell, hoping everyone hears me. The first rocket connects with the ground near the first geth, sending its body parts flying. Saren and Legion both pull out their assault rifles and begin peppering shots up the hill where the rocket came from. The green geth serenely packs up his tools and boards the ship, where I'm headed to as quickly as possible.

Just to be helpful, I pause to let out a few shots in the direction of the hill. Big mistake: the next missile collides to my right, sending me flying to my left and into the energy shield of the relic. The energy shield must be weak because my impact dissipates it and immediately, I can sense a tremendous flow of energy.

My body lifts off the ground and I see stars for a brief second. I can hear Saren express his concern as we lift off and Legion fires the last few shots needed to cover our escape.

We make it, but I don't know if I will. At least not for much longer. Of course, then, I see the light.

-RE-

On the hill, the woman with the rocket launcher clenches her fist in utter contempt. She throws down the weapon in disgust. Her squad, another woman with a hard set to her jaw in a pink and white GHA-issue uniform and a man with dead eyes in a jet black unifrom, regard her carefully.

"They got away?" the woman says, with an air of superiority.

"The intel wasn't the best now was it, LT?" she growls in response. She doesn't even wait for a reply, instead glaring at the sky, hoping to find any clue of where they went. Nothing comes forth.

She swears, at that moment, that she will find the traitor and the terrorist and kill them for the Grand Human Alliance. She also thinks of the images that flashed through her mind when she experimentally linked with the beacon.

She knows that the Protheans died violently, but with the right tools, the Alliance could do so much more.

**A/N- READ THIS IF YOU DON'T KNOW WHAT'S GOING ON**

** So, this ends Chapter One, with the unnamed protagonist having interacted with the beacon, Saren Arterius and Legion helping him out, and a mysterious GHA soldier tracking them all. Who could they be? What could happen next? You'll have to read this story to find out! Dum-dum-duuuuuum!**

**Yes, also regarding chapter length, the prologue and certain establishing or character-driven chapters will be longer, but action-oriented chapters might only be half this length to preserve the flow of less dialogue and more description.**

**BTW, I highly suggest you give a read through of OrbitingTheSun's Reverse Effect. It's a lot of changes, and that might help out anyone who's a little confused.**

**For summary's sake, though:**

**The League of Equal Races is the analogue to the Turian Hierarchy. They value absolute equality- that is to say, they value everyone having the same rights and will protect everyone within their walls from doing anything that could subvert their "unity".**

**The geth did not win the war with the quarians, but fled to the Terminus Systems to live in peace. There are groups who want freedom for the less individualistic "dumb mechs" I mentioned in the prologue. **

**Again, it changed a lot, so I would suggest again that you read through the backstory given by OrbitingTheSun, but I'll try to fill you in before chapters about any universal changes that occur within. **


	3. Sovereign: Debrief

**A/N- Sorry for the extended hiatus. Chapter will be polished up in a few hours. Need to catch a few Z's. Anyway, this here's chapter two. Thanks to everyone who reviewed and followed and favorited so far. I hope you are part of a growing group.**

Chapter 2

Sovereign: Debrief

A darkness that is complete. A first sound: a heartbeat that grows into the heartbeat of a civilization. Then, a birth. The first genetic Prothean stares at his parents with wide eyes. Evolution has taken him here; it will take him farther.

Friends. Neighbors. Helpers. Mates. All of these fleeting, mere impressions that fade into legacy over time. An explosion of information comes swiftly afterward. A technological age expands; they reaches to the stars and they find life. No more infighting. It is now us vs. them. Now it is war.

And who wins, but the Protheans? Again and again. Until the Protheans become the rulers. Until the scientists, warriors and politicians become the overlords and warmongers and kings. And there is no end. Every element is subjugated. The fiber of the worlds become intertwined with the technology that threatens organics more than they do themselves.

The synthetic wars rage, a pitched battle where the organics face insurmountable odds. The wars are waged across solar systems and worlds become husks of themselves. Races die Prothean geneticists subject them to brutal extermination or forced military labor. But it is enough, and the dominance of organics is preserved.

But, the politics of freedom still exist. Nobody is content to remain under the Prothean finger. There are uprisings; there is revolt. The rulers tighten their control and the revolution is stopped before it begins.

And so, comes a call. An Ultimatum. It is ignored. There is no fate besides that which is decided by the self. And so, the Protheans notice nothing as their worlds are taken, one by one.

And then, the message comes again. The Protheans are rapidly losing a war they didn't even know existed. A tiny cry of resistance against a god. No, against a sentinel. And they come relentlessly and the Protheans can do nothing to stop them. There is a message under the history, but it is garbled. There is a layer of images that are under the rest. And they are seen.

Throughout all of the Prothean's conquests, there were those watching. Those Sentinels of the universe who were there all along. Hiding in space, simply watching. And there is one nearby. One who has taken the fate of the galaxy to himself.

_One that watches you now... awaken._

-RE-

I am in a sterile white room, not unlike a hospital, but with a more mobile feel to it. It's a medbay on an orbital ship, I can tell. The room is sparse, but there are no window or natural light, so it cannot even be a small clinic on-planet. I sit up. My head aches and when I close my eyes, the images appear again.

The Protheans. They were terrible to each other. Moreso, they were terrible to the galaxy. Killing entire races to advance themselves: that is not the way to govern even one planet, not to mention clusters of planets and trillions of people. But that was the way. I can barely imagine what the Protheans had thought about synthetics. My mind is naturally drawn to the geth. The quarians were in the same position as the protheans just 300 years ago, and they made the same choice. Who's to say that the races will continue this swath of destruction- or who's to say they won't?

I sit in awed silence. I absorb the natural sounds of the ship around me. Bulkhead creaking softly, the hum of the life-support systems, the slight motion of people walking above and below me. But there is a new sound, a low drone that makes itself present only when one is listening very carefully and remaining very silent. I hear it for a scant few seconds before someone walks into the room.

A familiar face by this point, it's Saren. He is still in his armor, while I'm in my work uniform of dark blues and pale grays. He sits down in front of me on a chair and sighs dramatically. He even rubs some talons along his forehead, a gesture which, to me, seems exceedingly human.

"What did you see?" he says so quietly, I wonder if he's taking to himself.

"...I..." I can't bring myself to say anything. So, Saren turns his piercing gaze right towards me.

"Caduceus found your EEG levels to be 'medically impossible'. He said your brain's electric conversion rate was mathematically improbable to sustain without significant increases in glucose that your body doesn't have. So, as far as I can figure, you've been dreaming; probably to process information from the artifact. Tell me what it was."

"I...saw...terror? And pain; so much pain. And there was greed and anguish. Everything you see in the world today," I say, gesticulating as best I can. I can see Saren's eyes boring into me, but I try not to let it affect me. I continue.

"And the protheans. I saw them too. They were butchers and monsters. Nearly all of them. It was disgusting. They reflected all of the worst of the galaxy. They were haughtier than the asari, more willing to use propaganda than the humans, more restrictive than the turians, more shady than the salarians, and more paranoid than the quarians. They deserved their deaths. But, do we?

"Do we deserve to die at the Sentinel's hands? Do we deserve to be Culled? I- I don't even know what I'm saying... but at the same time, it seems so right and so easy to understand. We always have a choice. And it should be our choice to be free." I ramble on, mostly because I'm scared to stop and know what Saren has to say. Will he call me crazy and have me booted off of the ship? Will he kill me? Or, most scary of all, will he believe me?

He raises one talon to his chin and remains like that for an epoch of time, it seems. Finally, I can see the decision form before him. Clearing his throat, he sits forward and says, in the calmest voice possible, "I'd like to recruit you for The Revolution."

"What? What revolution?", my voice quivers. I'm out of breath, strangely and my heart is beating wildy.

"My associates and I, based on this ship's history cache, have decided to do everything in our power to prevent the collapse of galactic civilization before it happens again. We plan to overthrow the Citadel Council and their client races and bring freedom to the races of the galaxy. I'm asking you to help us," he states, reciting something I know he has to many people.

"Um...are you kidding me?" I ask, in disbelief. This guy has to be crazy, I think, to believe he's going to be able to seize galactic control from the Citadel.

He's heard this one, too. "I expected you might not believe me. I want you to have full disclosure, however. Whatever's necessary to get you on our side. Every disillusioned soldier or non-corrupt politician or group of dissidents is invited to join us in our quest. So, I feel like I should formally introduce myself," he says.

"My name is Saren Arterius; you know that. I was formerly a senior recorder for the League or Equal Races. I monitored the efficiency of our society and made certain that every being within our borders treated one another equally. Over time, I was responsible for the deportation of over 5,000 individuals to the Free Terminus Systems. This didn't bother me- until I deported my own brother on trumped up charges of 'liberty infringement'. I began to recognize more closely the infringements upon personal liberty the LER's brand of equality imposes." He leans back in his chair, knowing he's gotten me hooked on his every word.

"There is no freedom of speech nor press within the League's borders. The sciences and arts are monitored as well- to prevent dissent from brewing between those dissatisfied with communistic unity. I saw the opressive environment of the League for what it was; I had to get out, so I began to run covert intelligence gathering missions on the Free Terminus Systems. I eventually reached my brother, Dalan Arterius, who I found living on Omega, working the information trade.

"I contacted him, and he offered me a place in the Terminus in his operations. I voluntarily went black inside the Terminus for the LER, a mission supposed to last for 6 months. After 2 years, I was declared AWOL and discharged from civil duty, officially charged with disruption of unity and abetting inequality, two of the worst possible indictments from a League tribune.

"While I was working with Dalan, I met one of his more eclectic contacts: Legion, who was running a similar op for his geth sub-consensus. He introduced me to his units and I introduced him to my brother's group. We formed an alliance with a common goal: to bring true freedom to races of the galaxy.

"It was with Legion's intelligence that we discovered that there was an ancient race that would cull the galaxy of its wrongs. One of this race was the Sovereign itself. Legion accessed its electronic history and found its last damaged logs about the protheans and the war that killed them; brutal, bloody, violent. We also know of the ultimatum given to the protheans and we determined that, in order to prevent another culling, we need to heed the ultimatum of Sovereign's race, and bring freedom back to the people. We aren't dying this time. Not if I can do anything," he states, with a sense of finality I never hear from a GHA citizen.

Is it worth it? That's the only question I ask myself as I feel the seconds ticking by. Subconsciously and intuitively, I can sense the throbbing of the galaxy's misery sound from inside my own head. I look back at Saren, whose head is inclined gravely. I don't doubt him, oddly enough. I should and maybe will in the future, but events are transpiring around me I can't control. All I can do is hope that I can help in any way I can.

With conviction in my voice, I stare right back at the waiting Saren and say, "I'm in." I extend my hand, and he reaches for it steadily. As we make contact, I feel the ship rumble and the low drone grow in intensity. "What's going on?" I ask, feeling myself begin to sweat. Are we under attack or something?

"There's somebody else I'd like to have you meet. Meet Nazara, the Sovereign's AI," Saren replies coolly.

A deep voice that shakes the air in the room sounds from the medbay's announcement system. A nearby console displays a green hologram of a squid-like being. "I am Nazara, the Sovereign. It is through me that the races will once again gain sovereignty over their destinies. This is my only mission and my only drive. I will stop at nothing to prevent the culling of this cycle," it states.

"So, you're the ship's AI. Most AIs monitor weapons systems and the engineering bay. Yet this ship seems to have more than just the two of us and Legion here. Aren't there others on board somewhere?" I ask, half hoping one of them says that this is all a wild hallucination or a fever dream.

Nazara begins answering me before Saren does. With no humor, it states, "The Sovereign is currently occupied by the geth of Legion and the soldiers of Saren. Then, there is you, and there is the one from the Cerberus all on board. There is anticipated to be higher foot traffic in the near future."

Saren speaks. "Thank you, Nazara. Come on, we need to have to have you meet Kai Leng. He's been excited to meet another human. He's only been around geth, krogan and turians, this entire time."

"Wow. Why do I have the feeling you're going to be the death of me, General Saren Arterius, Leader of the Revolution against the Goddamn Citadel?" I decide to finally get up at the same time my legs decide to buckle. I brace myself on the bed and try no to show to much discomfort as Saren holds me up and I hobble over to the door.

Saren smirks as Nazara's hologram decides to power down, no longer needing to directly be a part of my tour. "I think you'll find that our chances are better than you think. Besides, now we have walking, talking beacon on our side..."

And we walk out the door and into the rest of my life. My likely to be very short life.


End file.
